


Perfect

by ChelseaDear



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha Paz Vizsla, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Lack of Communication, M/M, Omega Din Djarin, Well actually 6+1 because I can't count, so y'all get a bonus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29527344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaDear/pseuds/ChelseaDear
Summary: Six times Din Djarin's weathered his ill-timed heats alone, and one time it didn't.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Comments: 16
Kudos: 212





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've also never written anything like this before and am actually nervous about posting it, so please be gentle!!

Din Djarin was invincible. 

He was barely twenty but he was his covert's _beroya_ , a powerful man who'd risen above his station. Omegas like him weren't supposed to amount to anything, not like he'd amounted to. Everything about his position flew in the face of the underlying social structures every group of humans across the stars held true.

He “should” be at the covert, hidden away underground, mated and making **more Mandalorians**. There was one other omega in the covert and that was his station, a life underground, like that. Din did not judge him, no, that would have been cruel.

It just wasn't the life Din wanted, the life Din _craved._

And now he was **beroya,** the only one in the covert, the one who'd provide for them. It was **him** who had been deemed strong enough and fast enough and smart enough to be the one who made sure everyone could eat and replace their clothes and bedding and **everything else.**

He was invincible.

Well, he was invincible **most of the time.**

Like this, blindsided by his heat like someone who did not count the days, he was **miserable.**

He spent almost all of it adrift in space, laying on the floor or wherever it felt coolest. He hadn't been prepared, hadn't brought what he'd needed to help himself through it so he'd fucked himself raw with some pretty questionable objects.

His head had provided with images of someone fucking him as if that would help. He wanted nothing more than for someone to find him and fuck him over and over. He wanted someone to fill him. 

He wanted someone else to take control so he could spend his heat completely out of his mind.

He'd called out only one name the entire time. He was pretty sure he'd be hearing echoes of his own desperation his entire life, that one damned name making him face his own deepest desires...

...for someone who'd only ever challenged him to fights as if hoping to prove Din was not worthy of filling a position that an alpha was supposed to fill.

Din's heat-addled brain wanted **him** specifically, this Mandalorian alpha who Din was fairly sure only wanted to usurp him.

It was the challenge he presented, honestly.

Din had bested this particular alpha over and over. Din was faster. Din was better at things that required a slight of hand. Din was able to use his small stature to maneuver better. By all reason, the alpha should have been humiliated by the sheer number of times Din had bested him on principle.

And yet, the alpha kept coming back for more.

Din wanted so badly to have the tables turned on him. He wanted to submit to **that particular alpha**. Nobody else.

Just him.

On the fifth day when his heat finally, finally broke he dragged himself to his feet, let his tiny excuse of a sonic get him clean, and then scrubbed the _Razor Crest_ from top to bottom to get the smell out.

He banished all the thoughts of **that alpha** mounting him and claiming him as his own as he cleaned.

He promised himself he'd be smarted next time. He'd count the days like it, too, was a part of his religion. He'd find suppressants, maybe. Hopefully? Yeah, hopefully.

He was beroya. He had work to do. Heat couldn't get in the way like this again.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knew this was going to happen again eventually.


	2. 2

To Din's credit, **years** passed before his heat caught him off-guard again.

He was older now, smarter. He'd been reckless and even bedded people from other species. With them, he could pretend that it did not matter he was Omega. Those were fun, those fucks, but there was a part of him that **knew** those partners could never come close to satisfying a heat.

He'd develop the habit of taking suppressants on longer missions, especially ones where he had found himself working with someone else. An omega in heat on a hunt was asking for disaster. He'd avoided taking the suppressants if he could ride his heat out alone.

He'd heard horror stories about omegas that spent their lives on suppressants only to have them fail or have a heat despite the suppressants that managed to feel even worse than a normal heat. He'd heard stories, too, of things far worse, but he tried not to think about **those stories.**

He'd learned if he dabbed scent blockers on his cloak and blacks instead of his skin, they'd last longer. He could pass as a beta without the suppressants like that, and an **alpha** while he was on suppressants. He was so fucking proud of himself.

The idea that strangers he passed on hunts thought **he** was an alpha did wonders for his self-confidence.

The problem with confidence, though, is the more confidence someone possesses typically means the more blind spots they possess as well.

When Din came off a long chase through a subterranean network thanks to a target who'd assumed the darkness and twists and turns would throw off anyone chasing him. This target had not expected Din's tenacity. When Din finally caught him, he'd had to shoot him because the bastard just wouldn't go quietly.

He slung the corpse over one shoulder and it was **heavy** in ways it shouldn't have been. Din took a few steps and his knees just felt **off.**

He trudged onward anyway.

It took him far too long to realize he'd lost track of how long he'd been in the tunnels. There were no normal markers for time and he had, apparently, not paid attention to the time stamp in his HUD.

He'd lost two days.

He all but ran back to his ship, dead body and all. It felt like it took an eternity to get there, but when he did he slammed what was left of the bounty in carbonite, unwilling and unable to do anything else with it. He got off the planet and let the _Razor Crest_ drift again, aimless, as he stripped down and scrubbed himself clean of whatever he'd gotten on himself in the tunnels as quickly as he could.

His head felt like it was swimming. The edges of his vision were out of focus.

And he was so, so hot.

His thighs were covered in slick and his heart beat almost too fast. He wasn't meant to exert himself like that when a heat was coming on.

At least he had toys this time, including one that inflated like a knot. Din had no idea if it actually felt like a knot, but he loved that toy most.

He managed to drag out a few containers of water and a handful of ration bars. Not the most delicious food, but they contained everything he needed to survive.

Din squatted down at the edge of his bed and inserted one of his smaller toys to stretch himself. The sound it made with his slick was so obscene that it made him moan.

Oh, how he wanted an actual cock in him.

He stretched himself until he felt like he could fit his favorite toy. He had to go slower inserting that one. It was so girthy and long and while he loved how it hurt, he did not want to accidentally harm himself with it.

It was that tiny piece of his brain that was always looking out for his best interest that had kept him alive this long. Even in heat, he wasn't going to start ignoring it now.

Once he'd gotten the toy all the way inside of him, he set the inflation timer. He sat on the edge of his bed, braced himself by the heel of his palms, and rode it like he imagined he'd ride an actual cock. He made it hit all the right places he couldn't even dream of hitting with his own fingers. He moaned and cried out and begged for more, more, **more**.

He told himself he was suck a little cock slut and positively **keened** when he imagined someone else saying that to him. There was little more he wanted right then than to be someone's good boy. He wanted to be praised while his alpha knotted him and filled him.

He'd heard stories from other omegas whose alphas came inside them so much that they had a little pot belly at the end of each time their alphas had finished with them. They'd always giggled and told each other they imagined it was the beginning of what their bellies would look like when they'd been bred.

Din put a hand on the spot he imagined would fill out with that much cum in it and it was **flat.** He whined, wishing he could be filled like that. The only alpha that had managed to enter his heat-driven fantasies was **huge**. Din liked to imagine his cock matched the rest of him. 

His toy started to inflate and Din **screamed** at the pain-pleasure sensation. His nails dug in to his bedding as his whole body twitched.

It had an off switch, his toy, but he never used it. He wanted to memorize what it felt like to sit on a cock while he was pumped full of cum in waves. How long that took varied from alpha to alpha, he knew, but he liked to imagine his alpha would be just as an exceptional alpha as he was an exceptional omega. Together, they'd fuck like they lived: rough and long and pushing every possible boundary they came across.

He thought about huge hands gripping his hips. He wanted so badly to be held down to sit on his alpha's cock with so much force there would be bruises in the shapes of hands. He'd squirm while he pleaded for mercy. There would be no mercy, though, just lust. Just _want._

He came without touching himself.

He had five more days of this.


	3. 3

The third time was _not_ Din's fault at all.

He'd been on a long hunt with a fellow hunter and his suppressants had been stolen. Some other things, sure, and they were all replaceable but this was **not** the time to be out of suppressants.

There was not time to find a place to replace them **and** stay on the target's trail. He'd panicked so much this co-worker had noticed. When asked, Din did not lie.

His new worker had told him that was unfortunate and suggested that, if his heat came while they were still hunting, they each get a motel room and wait until his heat was over. Din had asked if he was sure, and he'd just shrugged.

He was a beta, so he was not a threat to Din. In fact, he'd been genuinely _nice_ about it. Din was terribly confused but did not question it.

They were, indeed, still hunting when his heat hit. He had enough of a heads up to get to a motel, but not enough time to be picky about it.

That heat was hell. He didn't have any toys and the motel was a bare-bones thing. He spent as much of it as he could in cold baths as if they could draw the heat out of him faster.

When his heat broke – within the hour – his coworker knocked on his door and left before Din could open it. He looked down and there was a tray of food with _Mando_ scrawled on a napkin.

He shrugged, took the tray into his room, and ate the food so fast he almost forgot to taste it. Only almost, though. Everything was _delicious_ and he wondered why his coworker was being so nice.

When they were on the hunt again, Din had tried to ask what all the niceness was about. His co-worker had only laughed and told him he was a single beta in a family of seven omegas and no alphas. 

It made sense, then, that he'd know what an Omega who'd just come out of heat needed to regain his strength and get back to work.

There was always work to do and they'd been off the trail far too long.


	4. 4

The forth time, his heat had come early. Din was at the covert taking a day's rest because that little piece of his brain responsible for keeping him alive told him to take it. His armor was being replaced, after all. What sense did it make to go on a hunt unprotected?

One day's rest was about to turn into five additional days being down for the count and he was **not** happy about it.

There was nowhere in the covert that was private like he was used to. He had his room, sure, but anyone who walked by would be able to smell him.

He needed to get to his ship.

He hated how **fast** his heats came on. He thought he'd be used to it after nearly two decades of heats, but each one was like having the lining of his skin set on fire and then being thrown into some sort of soup that shut off his brain and then rerouted all that energy to his sex drive. It was like he was burning and drowning in the impossible at the same time, really, and that was just the warning signs.

He felt like he was stumbling through the covert. At a few points he'd actually taken a wrong turn and had to re-orient himself. The tunnels were, blessedly, pretty empty. It made sense: it was the middle of the night. Everyone except whoever had been stuck on patrol duty would have been asleep.

The Armorer herself found him during one of the moments he was reorienting himself after a wrong turn. She hadn't said anything, just made sure he recognized her before she turned around and started walking away. Din followed her.

They did run into one of the patrol pairs. Din's life seemed to have gotten into a habit of mocking him, because one of those in the patrol pair was **the only alpha he'd ever even considered letting fuck him.**

The alpha in question was staring, too. Even under with all of their helmets well-secured, Din could feel the other man's stare like a weight in his chest. 

It had only been a few hours ago that this same alpha had called him a coward and tried to rip his helmet off him. Din had been beyond furious. He had been willing to kill him, even, for such a grievous insult but also, on a purely selfish level, for shattering years upon years of heat-driven fantasies.

That damned alpha was always talking, it seemed. That he would use some of that ceaseless talking to insult Din so deeply was one thing. Perhaps it would have even been something he could have forgiven him for given time. But trying to rip his helmet off? A serious attempt to expose **an unclaimed omega** like that in front of a room full of alphas?

He could not forgive how the man had nearly ruined both his faith and his **entire life** at the same time.

It was only the sound of the Armorer clearing her throat that got Din moving again, his feet somehow more sure of how to walk now. He needed out of there. Even with his common sense dulled by the pre-heat haze, his body agreed.

He was pretty sure he heard the alpha who hadn't tried to dishonor him say, “How did you not know?” as he was almost out of ear shot.

The Armorer got him to his ship and made sure he had water and food.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“This is the Way,” she answered. Din echoed the sentiment. The Armorer chuckled, the humor lost on Din entirely, and told him she would make sure his ship was sealed properly.

He was fairly sure he thanked her again before she left.

This heat was going to be absolutely horrible.


	5. 5

The fifth time kicked off just plain weird.

It was late this time – stress, Din was sure of it. He hadn't had sex with anyone since he'd picked up the kid.

He _did_ have work to do, though. His own covert was gone. There were so many dead and it was _his fault._ Once he got the kid to his people, he didn't have a purpose any more. He didn't know what he'd do after that.

More than that, he had a _child_ to care for now. His hormones had no idea what to do with that and everything about him had been thrown off.

He'd been swallowed by a dragon and lived, though, so at least he was still a prolific fighter and an impossible survivor.

The Mandalorian he'd thought he was searching for was not a Mandalorian at all, but someone with Mandalorian armor. That Armor was in Din's possession, now. It was something he'd have the Armorer melt down if he ever found her again. Hopefully, she'd use it to build armor for any surviving Foundlings.

And wasn't that a thought that just brought down the mood?

He was watching the chunk of dragon meat he'd been gifted cook on engine fire with the mechanic he'd started to think of **his mechanic,** Peli. She was a fascinating woman, another unbonded omega. Peli, though, seemed to be unafraid of what that meant. She ran her garage by herself. Din had seen her put alphas in their place like it was nothing.

She seemed to know his pre-heat had hit before he did. She'd been watching him in ways she hadn't before nearly half the night. 

When the pre-heat **did** hit, though, she told him to get what he needed from his ship and go use her spare bedroom for the week. He'd tried to protest. When protesting didn't work, he'd assured her that he would be fine on his own.

“Honey,” she had both hands on her hips, “I've seen the inside of this thing and I'm telling you that's no place to spend a heat. Now go, help yourself to my spare bedroom, and I'll make sure you got plenty of food and water. I'll also watch the kid. I promise he's safe with me. Now. Go.”

He'd wanted to argue with her. He really had. But there was something in her voice that his brain registered as a command.

And so he did.

The spare bedroom had high windows like they were meant to keep people from seeing in. The bed was wider than the ones Din was used to. It was so, so much softer, too. 

There was a chair with a pile of more blankets and pillows than Din had seen in one place his entire life.

He let instinct take over, then. He built himself a nest for the first time in his life. He was interrupted, briefly, when Peli dropped off water and food that wasn't ration bars. She'd knocked first and entered slowly. Din almost took offense to how careful she was being, but that little part of his brain that could not be overridden told him to stop and pay attention.

It was care Peli was expressing, not caution. Din was humbled by it.

When he decided the nest was complete, he crawled in it and **sobbed.** It was like a part of him he'd denied his entire life in hopes it would just kind of slough off from disuse was suddenly not only so very alive but also so very **happy.**

He felt comfort.

He'd never felt comfort while he was in heat before.

If he survived this whole mess, he was buying as many blankets as he could afford. After that, he'd figure out how he would make room aboard the _Razor Crest_ for all of them.

He never wanted to spend another heat without a nest.

It was different, fucking his toys in this nest. He'd spent the entire time anxious, though. He wan anxious about a lot of things. Maybe he'd make too much noise. (How much noise was too much?) Maybe he'd make too much of a mess on someone else's bed. (The blankets did not smell like anyone.) Was the kid safe? (He was sure he'd hear if something went wrong.) Was Peli safe? (He was still sure he'd hear if something went wrong.) Was the scent of an unbonded omega wafting out the window? (How tight were the window seals?)

Mostly, though, he was anxious because **he** started drifting back into Din's heat fantasies. Din had been able to keep thoughts of him at bay since he'd tried to end Din's life as a Mandalorian. Maybe it was the stress there, too, affecting his brain as well as his body. This whole heat was wrong, Din decided, and if that bastard wanted to wander in for it, well, Din could enjoy it now and then just throw it in the growing pile of things that went wrong later.

It was almost too easy to imaging him in the nest. Safe, even, like he belonged next to Din. Maybe he'd even stroke Din's sweat-soaked forehead and tell him all about how good he was being. He'd call Din things like beautiful and sweetheart and **mine.**

Din shivered, a little whimper escaping his lips as he imagined his alpha's fingers against his temples, a gentle touch of rough skin to soothe the worst of the heat away.

For the first time in a long, long time, Din let himself moan **that alpha's name** as he fucked himself in his nest.

It felt like a wound. Din was still furious about the whole 'try to dishonor Din in front of the Armorer' thing, but Din missed the challenge and the power and thrill he was able to draw from sparring with **him.**

The next five days passed in a haze. Din was pretty sure he'd used Peli's 'fresher at least once and he **knew** he'd seen the kid at least twice. The kid had been excited to see him but seemed very content with Peli, too.

He was so, so thankful Peli was taking such good care of the kid.

As the last bits of heat fell away from him, Din shoved all the thoughts he'd had of one Paz Vizsla out of his head once more.

He had a kid to care for. There was no room in Din's life for someone who'd done to him what Paz had done to him.

As Din got ready to take off again, Peli ran down a list of things to make sure Din was one hundred percent back to himself. 

It was interesting, having another omega helping him. She wasn't patronizing or protective, just...genuine? 

“People like us gotta look after each other,” she told him.

He knew exactly what she meant. She, like him, had decided society's norms weren't something she had to listen to. They'd both risen far above their expected stations. They knew how to take care of themselves. They were proof omegas did not need a bond or even an alpha to make their way in the world.

The kid had been so excited to see Din back to normal. When Din picked him up, he clutched Din's cape and refused to let go as he babbled away.

“You two be careful out there,” Peli said as she waved them off, “If you need anything, you come back here, okay?”

“I will,” Din meant it, “If there's ever a problem you can't take care of on your own, hail me. I'll be there.”

“If there's a problem I can't take care of on my own, it'll probably kill me long before I realize I needed back up,” she said with a laugh. It was more than likely true, Din realized, but the way she could laugh about it managed to make Din respect her even more.

Din took a deep breath before he said the last of his good-byes to Peli.

There was, as always, work to be done.


	6. 6

Corvus wasn't a horrible planet. Unfortunate, maybe, with its stripped trees and until the previous day its dictator problem, but not a horrible planet.

Unless that 'horrible' was attached to the phrase 'place to go into heat,' then Corvus **was** a horrible planet.

He'd done what he came here to do. He'd found the Jedi. He'd helped the Jedi with her mission. He'd even gotten a Beskar spear for his troubles.

He had not expected the Jedi to refuse to help him in return, least of all because the child – because Grogu, he corrected himself, had become attached to him. He thought that was what children did. They became attached to their buir.

He could not understand how this was a bad thing.

He did understand the importance of freeing one's self from attachments, but that was for adults. Adults, specifically adults who had completed their training and sworn themselves to the Creed, understood that attachments were easy targets for anyone who wanted to manipulate them. Children, though? There were reasons **children** went through training.

He felt no closer to his goal of reuniting Grogu with his people. Quite the opposite, actually. It was starting to feel like he was ultimately going to let Grogu down.

The Jedi must have sensed something was wrong because she was waiting at his ship. She was leaning against one of the landing gears, her arms loosely crossed in front of her. She looked...bored?

“You're not going to fly like that,” she told him.

“Well, no,” Din blinked a few times like doing so would help him at all.

“I'll watch him until you can fly again,” the way she said it felt like a command.

“You're familiar with...with heats, then?” Din kicked himself for not asking a more important question first, like why she thought he'd agree to hand **his kid** to someone who had just told him attachment was a bad thing.

“I lived with humans, yes,” she said it like it was obvious and Din was wasting her time.

Din hesitated for several moments before he told Grogu: “Ahsoka's going to take care of you for a few days, okay? Just for a few days, I promise.”

Grogu cooed and wriggled a little bit, but when Din put him on the ground he walked over to Ahsoka like he understood what was going on.

It made sense. Din's heats hadn't stopped because he had a Foundling in his care.

His heat built itself into a frenzy as he watched them walk away.


	7. +1

Of all moment to go into **another** weirdly timed heat, it was right after leaving Morak.

He may have lost track of the days again. Maybe it was wearing a suit that smelled of an alpha in rut that had done the trick. Or maybe it was still stress. He didn't know anymore.

He had been finding new ways to reach stress levels he'd previously assumed killed people, or at least incapacitated them.

It was Boba who'd noticed almost immediately after he did. 

“Off the bridge,” Boba had snapped at Cara and Fennec. Fennec obeyed, either the life's debt or the raw power Boba had put behind the command. Cara, though, lingered long enough to make it clear that she did not entirely trust Boba or his intentions.

Din nearly flew into a panic. He would have, really, were it not for the little piece of his brain that told him to hold his ground and see what Boba wanted before rushing in on the offensive.

“Have you taken emergency suppressants before?” Boba asked. Din had not, and he told Boba as much. Boba explained it to him like this: “They'll hold your heat at bay for a week at most, but when they wear off you are going to **drop** like you've never dropped in your life. No amount of training will be able to stop the drop. If you go through your heat alone when it comes back, you will feel so sick that you will feel like you're going to die.”

“It won't be the worst I've felt,” Din was telling the truth. Boba made a noise that suggested Din had no idea what he was talking about. “We don't have five days right now,” Din told him.

“If you take them again in the next five years, you will never be able to take suppressants again in your life,” Boba kept explaining the side effects, “This will be your one use every half-decade.”

“Understood,” Din was pretty sure he meant it. The edges of his vision were starting to fade and his thoughts were starting to feel clouded and heavy.

 _“Fennec,”_ Boba said over the comms, _“bring the ES.”_ He pronounced each letter individually, ee-ess. It made the whole thing feel clinical all of the sudden.

Fennec was there so quickly that Din suspected she'd gone to get it as soon as she'd left the bridge. Cara was right behind her, shoulders squared and watching everything closely. She stared at Din while Boba injected the emergency suppressants . Her eyes seemed to ask Din if he understood what he was doing to himself. 

It was a daft question, Din thought. He was an omega trying to save his child. He was currently surrounded by three unbonded alphas. They were on their way to go get three _more_ alphas who, Din was fairly sure, were **also** unbonded.

He understood he could **not** afford to be in heat right now. Very little mattered beyond that.

Whatever was in the serum worked quickly. It was like experiencing pre-heat in reverse. Din was only slightly aware that he screamed and sobbed for nearly an entire minute. The feeling was too strange and too fast for his mind and body to keep up.

And then he felt fine. 

Cara put a hand on his bicep like she was steadying him. She did not smell of alpha like Din expected her – and Boba and Fennec, too – being so close to an omega who'd nearly just gone to heat. She smelled like a friend.

Din nearly cried as he realized he had an alpha as a **friend.**

“Alright,” Din took a deep breath, “We're on the clock. Let's **go**.”

From there, everything went smoothly. Well, as smoothly as it could with a rescue that involved taking over an Imperial ship.

Not only had Din gotten his child back, a Jedi who promised to train Grogu and take care of him showed up, too, and saved them all.

One thing had gone incredibly sideways: Din had been the one Moff Gideon yielded to, not Bo-Katan.

One day, Bo-Katan would find him. She'd challenge him to a fight and reclaim the darksaber so she could continue her life-long fight to reunite the people of Mandalore.

When that time came, Din knew he would find a way to yield as quickly as possible. Even though becoming Mand'alor would flip everything about an Omega's place in society, he did not want to be a ruler.

Right now, he just wanted a place to have what was going to be the worse heat of his life that wasn't his hard cot.

“Where do you go now?” Boba asked him.

Din had been counting the hours instead of the days. He knew how little time he had to find a place to go.

There was no time to get new toys. He'd lost all of them when his ship was all but vaporized. He'd have to figure something out.

He always figured something out.

He did have a friend besides Cara, he realized: his mechanic Peli. Peli would let him stay. Peli would make sure he was left alone but also cared for as much as one omega can help another from a distance.

“Tatooine,” Din told him.

“That's where we're going anyway,” Fennec said.

Cara promised them she'd find a ride from Tatooine. She, too, understood that just because their mission was over didn't mean they weren't still on the clock.

Once they got to Tatooine, Boba escorted Din to Peli's himself even though Din's heat was still nearly a full day away.

Din was thankful Boba was an honorable man. Boba did not try to take advantage of the fact he was the one who'd enabled Din to save Grogu. He did not even **hint** at the fact Din was in his debt and as such Boba all but had the right to offer to 'help' Din through his heat. 

Boba promised Din that he would explain what happened to Peli while Din did what he had to in order to dull as many edges of his impending heat as possible.

Din hoped Peli was as good on her word as he judged her to be.

When they finally got to Peli's, it was not just her who greeted them.

Another Mandalorian wearing almost too-familiar blue Beskar was waiting there, too, perched on the edge of one of the garage's counters. Din felt all the air leave his lungs and he froze.

Just a step and a half in front of him, Boba stood still in the way one does before they grab their weapon.

“Paz,” the name felt strange on Din's lips so he said it again, _“Paz.”_

“Told you he'd come back here,” Peli sounded proud of herself, “Din, who's your friend?”

“My name is Boba Fett,” Boba announced himself, “We should all step inside.”

Peli lead the way. Boba followed her. It was a moment of an inverse of power. Din loved the fact he got to witness it. Paz followed, too. Seeing two alphas follow an omega sent a little thrill through Din that he did not want to think too hard about.

They were almost too crowded in Peli's kitchen. Boba, true to his word, explained what had happened. Din assured both Peli and Paz that he had wanted the emergency suppressant. It had been a tactical choice and Din stood by it.

Din had to explain what happened once they got on the ship, though. He tried to keep the details sparse. He hoped the fewer details he spoke the less it would hurt. 

“You are mandokarla,” Paz told him, the closest thing to an apology that Din had ever even **heard of** Paz uttering. It was just three words, but they hit Din like a blow. The fact Paz was here with him and **praising** him was too much to bear.

“I'm about three hours away from having five of the worst days of my life,” Din tried to convince himself that he wasn't complaining, “and suddenly childless.”

Din knew this heat would be even worse than Boba had warned him because his child was gone. Even though it was for the best for both of them, Din had **bonded** with Grogu to the point he had genuinely started thinking of him as his son.

Boba and Paz were staring each other down as if they were waiting for the other to make a move.

“Come on,” Peli extended her hand to Din, “let's get you set up while these two do their alpha things.”

Din took her hand and let her lead him to the spare bedroom. 

“How long has he been here?” Din asked her.

“Months,” Peli told him, “He said he'd heard about a Mandalorian in silver armor who traveled with a child and he was looking for him. A member of his covert is what he told me.”

“And you believed him?” Din asked.

“I'm glossing over what a disaster he was when he first got here,” Peli dropped her voice, “He was wounded. Half-starved. Manic. He wasn't hunting like you hunt, Din.”

“He was part of my covert,” Din told her, “but the covert's gone. I don't know how many are dead. He...” Din trailed off.

“Should I have lied to him?” Peli asked. Din paused for a moment to admire how brave Peli was for being willing to lie to an alpha like Paz.

“No,” Din shook his head, “It's...complicated.”

Peli opened the door to her spare bedroom and ushered Din in. 

“I'll get you some food and water,” Peli told him, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Din started walking to the blanket pile but halfway there he stopped.

“Peli,” Din called after her. She poked her head back in so Din kept talking, “Can you. Can you ask him to come up here?”

Peli set her jaw and looked Din up and down.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “If you need **anything** you yell for me, okay?”

“I will,” Din told her, “I promise.”

Peli disappeared again.

Din busied himself making a nest. It was strange to let instinct take over like this. Nest building was not something he had ever put any thought into, yet his body knew how the soft things needed to be arranged.

Paz came up with Boba on his heels. Din froze for a moment before he shrunk in on himself. The two of them standing like that was horrifying. He doubted they realized it, though.

“Din,” Boba's voice was low, dangerous, “Do you want Paz Vizsla alone in the room with you right now?”

“I do,” Din told him. The strength in his reply surprised him. 

He was still in control of the situation. Despite everything, he was still in control of the situation.

Boba made a noise that almost sounded like a growl, but he nodded and left.

Paz stood in the doorway, still like he was waiting. It was an awkward thing and Din had no idea what to do.

“I had no idea,” Paz finally said something. He leaned one shoulder on the door frame. “I honestly had no idea.”

Din snorted. “How could you not?”

“Have you seen you?” Paz asked, “I thought your scent blockers were working in the other direction.”

“Seriously?” Din almost laughed, “You seriously thought I'm an alpha trying to pass as a beta?” Paz nodded. “Well, I'm not. I'm a fucking omega and I'm about to have five absolutely horrible days so if you've come all this way to call me a damned coward again then get it over with an **leave.** ”

“I wanted to apologize,” Paz told him, “Still do!” he rushed to add, “I. I've rehearsed this conversation in my head hundreds and hundreds of times but now that you're **actually here** I don't know how to do this.”

“How did you find me?” Din asked.

“I followed the rumors,” Paz told him, “I listened to every whisper in every far-flung shit hole I could find to see where you'd been. Tatooine got mentioned a lot, so I figured if I just. If I waited long enough, you would show up again.”

“How'd you wind up here, specifically?” Din asked.

“Peli recognized me as a Mandalorian,” Paz tried to explain, “We talked a lot. I mean a lot-a lot. Eventually she offered to let me stay here as long as I helped her in the shop.”

“Any news of the covert?” Din had to know. Paz shook his head and Din felt like he might sob.

They might be the last two. Just them.

Din's skin started to feel like there were countless tiny needles stabbing him from the inside. 

He had a lot less than three hours.

“It's starting,” Din said through gritted teeth.

“I'll go,” Paz told him, “I'll make sure nobody gets through this door, Din.”

“Stay,” Din told him. I was a command rather than a request.

Paz's entire body stiffened.

Din knew what he was asking of Paz. He knew that, if Paz stayed, he'd see all of Din, face included. He knew he'd be at Paz's mercy at the end of it all.

“I called you a coward,” Paz sounded like a broken man, “I tried to-”

“I know what you did,” Din was already stripping himself of his armor, “and when I'm not about to lose my fucking mind we can have an actual conversation about that. But right here, right now, I am asking you to stay with me.”

It was amazing, how quickly Paz moved from the door frame to Din. He helped Din remove his armor before he started removing his own while Din frantically tried to finish his nest.

They both had their helmets on for now. Flight suits, too, and those would go before their helmets.

Well, they'd go before Din removed his helmet. He'd have to. Trying to go through heat in a helmet was akin to torture, as if heat wasn't bad enough on its own. Paz, though. Paz could keep his on the entire time if he wanted to.

This could be a casual thing to Paz for all Din knew. Maybe he'd only waited here to see if Din was still alive. He might up and leave once Din's heat was over like helping Din was his apology and Paz would disappear once that apology was done.

He tried to focus on his nest instead of...that line of thought. 

Mostly satisfied with his nest, he removed his flight suit and curled up in the little circle of soft things. 

Not terribly far away, Paz was almost done removing his armor. It seemed to be a complicated thing with so many more ties and buckles than Din's armor had.

Din knew he was staring.

Once Paz had his armor off he stripped his flight suit off as well. Din could hear Paz's heavy sigh. 

Paz removed his helmet and put on top of his armor pile.

He looked at Din, his eyes dark and holy fuck, Paz was **beautiful.** His skin was a scattering of scars of all shapes and sizes. A few were raised instead of sunken into his skin, including on that ran nearly all the way across his chest in a diagonal line.

Din nearly ripped his own helmet off and threw it across the room.

Only nearly, though.

Paz crossed the room in three steps, He stopped next to the bed and asked, “Can I come in?”

“Phrasing,” Din snorted. Paz almost smiled. He looked terrified, Din noticed. “Paz,” he looked up so that he would have been making eye contact had Din's helmet not still been on, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” Paz rushed to say, “I want this. I want **you.** ”

“Come in,” Din patted the bed, “please.”

Paz crawled in next to Din. He was surprisingly gentle, careful not to disturb Din's nest. He laid on his side, face towards Din. He propped himself up on one elbow so his head and shoulders were well off the bed.

Paz was **huge.** There had been far less padding involved with Paz's armor than Din thought. His weight was evenly distributed – perhaps a little more carried in his stomach – and must have been twice Din's size at the very least.

Din tried to mirror Paz's pose. The needle feeling had given way to a constant, humming heat just barely under his skin.

Paz put a hand on Din's waist right on the curve above his hip. Din whimpered at the touch and Paz squeezed just a little bit.

Paz ran his hand up Din's side slowly. Din shivered and whimpered. Din traced the gentle curve that made the space between Din's hip and ribs over and over, his hand going a little lower each time until it covered the side of Din's hip entirely. Din keened, a quiet thing, and closed his eyes.

Din could feel his slick starting to make itself known, the warm wetness between his legs that seemed to know Paz was here after a lifetime of fantasies of just this.

He could almost forget he'd ever been angry at the man.

Paz traced his hand up Din's side again and kept going until his finger tips rested on the edge of Din's helmet.

“Please,” Din could feel himself shaking, nerves and anticipation sending him into a sort of anxious overdrive. 

Paz gripped the edge of Din's helmet and asked: “You're sure?”

“Yes,” Din could have slapped him if the question hadn't been so tender, “I'm sure, Paz.”

It was a big deal and they both knew it. Paz removing Din's helmet instead of Din was akin to Din telling Paz he trusted him in ways deeper than just being a part of the same now-defunct covert.

Paz nodded and removed Din's helmet slowly, carefully. He put it down just on the edge of the bed and then put a hand on the side of Din's face.

“Wow,” Paz breathed. Din cocked his head towards Paz's hand, both desperate for contact and curious as to why that was all Paz could say. Paz seemed to understand it was both things, because he said: “Have you seen you?”

It was the same question Paz had asked earlier. It hit different this time, though. The first time it had felt like he was questioning Din's self-perception, but this time?

This time is felt like awe.

Paz ran his thumb across Din's cheek from just under his eye to his nose and back again a few times. It was a gentle thing. Din had not expected Paz Vizsla, of all people, to be **gentle.** He wasn't complaining, though.

If anything, he was thankful.

Din wondered if Paz could feel how **hot** Din's skin was getting. Paz grunted but it sounded more like a growl as Paz shifted closer to Din. Din almost rolled on his back to submit.

Almost.

Din wanted a challenge, so he told Paz as much.

“If you knock me on my ass,” Paz said with a laugh, “promise me you'll never let me live it down.” 

Din promised.

Paz surged forward to try to pin Din with his shoulder. Din saw the move coming and managed to push himself up in a sideways sort of move. Din staggered and fell off the edge of the bed but managed to land on his feet. 

Paz rolled back and off the bed with more grace than Din's stagger had had to it.

Din put his fists up like he was ready for hand-to-hand combat. Paz laughed and took two steps towards Din, hands loose at his sides. Din pulled his shoulders back and tried to gauge where to strike Paz.

Din decided to side-step Paz instead, making Paz take an extra step forward. Before Din could move further out of the way, though, Paz swiped his arm to the side and swung it around, catching Din in the swipe and shoving him back towards the place he'd started at.

Paz caught Din with his other arm and held Din against his chest. Din couldn't move his arms, so he bit Paz on the collar bone.

Paz **roared** and threw Din back into the nest like he was a ragdoll.

So this was the fabled alpha strength Din had heard so much about. Later, much later, in a rare moment of self-inflicted honesty, Din would admit he thought the notion that an alpha got even stronger when presented with an omega in heat was a legend told to make omegas feel better about how easily they were manhandled when heat sapped all their strength.

Paz had **never** thrown Din before. And oh, had he tried.

Din landed with a yelp. Before he could get his bearings, Paz was on top of him, one knee on each side of Din's hips. Paz was **hard** as he pressed against Din's stomach.

Paz lowered himself so that his lips were right next to Din's ear. His breath was hot and loud. Din squirmed, a futile thing.

“Challenge enough for you?” Paz asked.

Din wanted to tell him no, it wasn't. Din wanted a **fight** and he hadn't gotten one. He struggled under Paz's weight only to find that, no, he was not getting out from under Paz without asking.

The spot Din had bit Paz was bleeding, Din noticed, wet against Din's on chest.

He bit Paz again and Paz bit back. Paz's bite was too close to where he'd bite if he was to claim Din. Genuine fear flooded Din. He wasn't ready to be claimed.

He did not **want** to be claimed.

Din headbutted Paz with the side of his face. His teeth clicked together with the force of it. He was pretty sure he tasted blood.

Paz was surprised enough to rear back. Din twisted around so he was on his stomach and tried to crawl away. Paz put one hand on the back of Din's neck and held him down.

Din whimpered and tried to free himself, but Paz just **laid on him**.

“Use your words,” Paz told him.

Din whimpered again and tapped the spot where Paz had bit.

“Oh shit,” Paz let go of Din's neck and sat up on his knees so Din's back was freed, “Din, I am incredibly sorry.”

“You've never apologized for anything in your life, Vizsla,” Din tried to keep control of the situation.

“I've never come this close to fucking something up so irreparably,” Paz ran one of his knuckles over the spot where he'd bit, “Just a few inches over and...” It felt like Paz **couldn't** say what had nearly just happened.

Din shivered at the touch, but something about it let him relax. Paz laid back down on Din with less force this time.

“Forgiven,” Din muttered. Paz kissed the spot where he'd bit. It was a gentle thing. Din didn't think he'd even get over how **gentle** Paz was being with him.

Paz's cock was digging into Din's back, though. Din's not-helpful part of his brain told him Paz's cock should be **elsewhere** and even the part of his brain that normally had his best interest in mind agreed like it knew this was how Din's heats had always meant to be spent.

Din leaned his head back, seeking contact with Paz's head.

“I'd like to see you,” Paz told him.

“That requires you getting up first,” Din said it like Paz wouldn't have known.

Paz grunted and shifted just enough to let Din roll onto his back again. Din lifted his arms over his head, wrists crossed, to let Paz really **see** him. Paz pulled back to sit on his knees again and looked Din up and down several times.

Din couldn't tell if he was feeling appreciated or studied.

Paz put a hand on either side of Din's rib cage and stroked down to Din's hips. Din tried to buck into the touches.

“Eager,” Paz teased.

“Look who's talking,” Din stared at Paz's dick as he said it.

Paz hummed, a deep sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside the man.

“Touch me,” Din tried to make it sound like a command but it only sounded desperate, “Touch me like you **want** to fuck me.”

Paz did not have to be told twice.

He shifted so Din could spread his legs and settled back down on his knees. He had one hand on the inside of Din's thigh, holding the leg still. He gripped hard as if it would counter the slick's inherent, well, slickness.

With his other hand, he started to work Din open. He slid one finger in slowly. Din keened and tried to press Paz deeper inside of him.

Paz gripped Din's thigh a little harder and added a second finger. He started moving those two fingers inside of Din and Din started **begging** Paz for more.

“Don't want to hurt you,” Paz sounded like it was a struggle to stay in control of himself.

Din said please once more and Paz withdrew his fingers.

Din started to apologize but Paz grabbed his other thigh like he'd grabbed the first and told him: “Easy, Din.”

Paz spread Din's legs out further and hoisted Din's hips just a little bit off the bed in the same movement. He bit his lower lip as he aligned himself with Din's hole while Din did his best to hold still for Paz.

Paz was as careful as he could as he entered Din. Din **mewled** and utterly failed to keep still. Paz went slowly, testing to make sure Din could stretch to fit him. Din wondered if Paz knew he'd never spent his heat with anyone.

When Paz bottomed out inside of Din, he let go of Din's legs and let himself fall forward. He caught himself on his elbows, his back arched and face just inches away from Din's.

Din could feel himself tightening around Paz's cock.

“Good?” Paz asked.

“Yeah,” Din breathed, “Better than good.”

Paz hummed again. This time, Din felt the sound settle into his bones.

Din wrapped his legs around Paz's so that he hooked his ankles on the inside of Paz's thighs. Paz made a pleased sound and pulled out slowly until he was just barely still inside of Din. Din whimpered and said Paz's name over and over, short little breathy pleas. Paz kissed Din's neck and Din clawed at Paz's back.

And then Paz plunged back inside Din.

Din **howled** and canted his hips up, closer to Paz. He dug his nails into Paz's back and held onto Paz like a lifeline.

Paz's thrusts were slow like this at first as if he were testing how Din took him. Paz was quiet for what may have been the first time in his life.

Din felt like he might lose his mind.

“Paz,” Din begged, “Paz please.”

“Oh Din,” Paz nuzzled against Din's neck, “Oh Din do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

Paz wrapped one arm under Din and then up and around to grab onto Din's shoulder from behind. He did the same with his other arm. He adjusted his grip as Din started to try to ask what he was doing.

And then Paz started to **thrust.**

Din let out a cry and Paz asked him if he was okay without stopping.

“Very,” Din managed.

“Good,” he kissed the spot where Din's jaw and neck met. Din stretched his neck a little bit in a bid to give Paz more to kiss, “So good, aren't you, Din?”

“For you,” Din said it like a promise.

“Just for me?” Paz asked.

“Just you,” Din felt like it was a confession. He hoped Paz understood what he meant.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?” Paz was starting to pant, “To deserve you?”

Din wasn't sure if he should answer that.

“Din,” Paz kept talking and ah yes, there was the constant talking, finally, “So perfect, so fucking perfect.”

Paz's thrusts started to get shorter and shorter until he was buried as deeply in Din as possible.

“Din,” Paz told him, “Din, I'm going to knot, Din.”

“Paz,” Din nipped in Paz's general direction. He scraped Paz's shoulder with his teeth and Paz shuddered.

“Din, do you,” Paz grunted, “Should I pull out?”

“Don't you dare,” Din locked his legs tighter around Paz.

 **Paz** whimpered and bit down on Din's shoulder just before he came.

“Fuck!” Din's nails dug into Paz's back even further as he felt Paz knot inside of him, “Paz, Paz!”

Paz's hips spasmed more than they thrusted a few more times before he came. Din could feel Paz **filling** him. 

Din moaned and felt himself tighten around Paz's knot.

“Oh Din,” Paz buried his face in Din's neck, “Oh Din.”

Din clung to Paz and whimpered. Paz peppered the side of Din's neck with kisses.

“If we're careful,” Paz told him, “I can sit up and lean you against me. Would you like that?”

Din nodded.

Paz moved so slowly and gently despite the raw power it took to lift Din with him. The first step was Paz getting his knees. Din clung to Paz, arms and legs wrapped around the alpha as tight as he could manage. Paz held Din against him, arms crossed over Din's back.

The second step was trickier. Paz needed to sit back far enough to get his legs out from under him so he was sitting on his ass instead of his knees with his legs in front of him. This part had Din on his knees and their hips pressed together.

The last steps combined into Paz rotating until his back was facing the wall and then scooting back slowly. He came within a few inches of the wall before he leaned back, making sure his torso was at an angle so Din could recline against him.

“Come here,” Paz pulled Din against him so that Din's face was nestled in the space where Paz's throat, shoulder and chest met, “Good, good.”

Din whimpered and nuzzled into Paz. 

Paz started stroking Din's hair, his other arm still holding Din close.

“Oh Din,” Paz's voice was soft, kind, “You're so good Din. So fucking good. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have your knot in me,” Din answered. Paz chuckled and Din smiled.

Din drew one arm up and in so that his hand came to rest on Paz's shoulder. His other arm stayed down, that palm holding onto the side of Paz's hip. Paz's breaths were steady, deep things that made Din feel at ease. 

Paz's cock twitched and Din gasped as Paz growled.

“Fuck,” Din bit out the curse.

Paz settled both his hands on Din's hips and thrust up just enough to make Din moan and arch his back so that he was pressed even more into Paz.

“You like that, huh?” Paz sounded needy.

Din nodded and made an affirmative noise, so Paz did it again. Din sat up with a gasp and felt Paz somehow settle even deeper within him.

Paz groaned and gripped Din's hips a little tighter.

“Beautiful,” Paz told him, “So fucking beautiful, Din.”

Din placed both his hands on Paz's chest, pushed himself up, and tried to force himself down on Paz's cock. 

“Oh fuck,” Paz swore as he pushed up into Din, “You're going to be the death of me.”

Din **grinned** and started fucking himself around Paz's knot. There wasn't much room for him to move, but Din wanted to take **everything** he could get from Paz. Paz groaned and his hips twitched more than thrusted as he held Din down against him.

Din came with a sound caught between a scream and a moan. He could feel slick spreading out under him, all over Paz's legs. Paz groaned again.

“You feel so fucking good, Din,” Paz murmured, “So tight and so wet.”

“For you,” Din promised him.

Paz coaxed Din into leaning against him. Din snuggled into the crook of Paz's neck without prompting.

“Good boy,” Paz murmured into Din's hair. He held Din close like he never wanted to let go.

Din nuzzled into Paz with a contented hum.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” Paz asked.

“Yeah,” Din said with a sigh, “I do, yeah.”

“Good boy,” Paz told him again, “So good, Din.” He started petting Din's hair again, “You take my knot so well, fuck, it's like we were made for this.”

“We,” Din echoed. His brain latched onto that word, the **we** where Paz had every right to use a **you.**.

“Not to be presumptuous,” Paz grinned.

“You're an ass,” Din informed him.

“Always,” Paz agreed. Din chuckled and Paz held him a little tighter. 

They laid like that for a while, Paz against the wall and Din against Paz. Din felt like he'd become boneless and Paz was keeping him together.

Once Paz's knot deflated, Paz rolled Din off him gently. When Din complained, Paz said: “Let me get you cleaned up a bit, Din.”

Paz grabbed one of the blankets Din hadn't brought into the nest to wipe Din's legs off. Once Din was as dry as he was going to get, Paz wiped himself down and crawled back into the nest. He laid on his side and coaxed Din into laying against him back-to-chest. He clutched Din more than he held him, one arm under him and crossed over his chest, the other slung over Din's hip with his hand resting on Din's belly.

Din curled into himself and Paz wrapped himself around Din.

“Do you think they'd've called it **heat** if it didn't make me feel like I've been dipped in fire?” Din's words slurred together just slightly.

“What would you prefer it do?” Paz asked.

“Not knock me out for days at a time,” Din clutched he arm across his chest.

Paz made a sympathetic sound and kissed the top of Din's head.

“You do realize I'm going to be like this for days, right?” Din asked.

“It'd be a little worrisome if you weren't,” Paz answered.

“Okay, cool, because I've got a precious few minutes of clarity over the whole thing and I'd hate to waste them explaining that,” Din's words still weren't quite clear, “You're staying for the whole thing?”

“If you'll have me,” Paz gave Din a little squeeze.

“How honest do you want me to be?” It was now or probably never.

“Completely,” Paz sounded nervous but convicted.

“It's only ever been you I've wanted,” Din felt like he might break apart as the truth left him at long last, “My entire damned time at the covert and it's only even been you.”

“Me?” it was Paz's turn to be an echo.

“You,” Din told him, “You were the only one to offer me a real challenge, like you weren't afraid of hurting an omega.”

“...does it mean less that I thought you were an alpha?” The words sounded like they fell out of Paz.

“More, I think,” Din smiled, “Especially because I tend to kick your ass.”

“You're an impossible thing,” Paz told him, “It's fucked up, my head, most of the time. There's so few of us that courting an alpha felt – feels – like a sort of betrayal to our people. So I kept challenging you to fight as a poor substitute.”

Din felt like he might sob.

“I realize this is not the ideal time to be telling you all this,” Paz kept talking, “Nor is it the right time to tell you that I called you a coward because I was terrified that you'd wind up as a belated loss to the Great Purge, or that after I realized I had your scent blocker use backwards the Armorer circled back to take me off patrol and had me run through the beginner drills for weeks because she decided my judgment was off and my entire head needed recalibrating.”

“Seriously?” Din interrupted.

“Weeks,” Paz emphasized, “Like I was a child again.”

“Damn,” was all Din could say.

“It's a horrible time to be telling you this,” Paz repeated, “And probably a horrible time to tell you that I haven't found anyone else yet because as soon as I heard rumors you were alive I chased them across the stars.”

“Me,” Din breathed.

“I wanted,” Paz took a deep breath, “I **needed** to apologize.”

“And what came after that?” Din asked.

“I don't know,” Paz buried his face in Din's hair, “Never really got past that. Don't think I could have, really. If I'd gone past that I would have had to start considering scenarios where I never found you.”

Paz squeezed Din's stomach and all mental box where Din kept all the impossible things locked away his entire life like being claimed or having children or putting roots down somewhere came flooding out.

His skin felt impossible hot again and his thoughts started to jumble together.

His window of coherence was gone.

“Oh Din,” Paz purred, “tell me what you want.”

“I want you to mount me,” Din's pleas rushed out of him, “I want you to fuck me hard and knot me over and over. I want to be so good for you, Paz.” 

He felt like he might cry and did not understand why.

Paz growled and all but threw Din onto his stomach. Din whimpered and Paz shifted to straddle Din.

“I will please you,” Paz told him, “and you are going to be fantastic, Din.”

Din could feel Paz's cock harden against him. Din bucked against him and Paz humped him once, twice, three times. Din keened. He felt his thighs getting wet with slick again.

“First, though,” Paz said, “we're getting you some water and a little bit of food, okay?” Din nodded and Paz shifted off of him to get said sustenance.

Paz sat Din up slowly. Din swayed, his head swimming and no two thoughts connecting with each other.

Paz fed Din one bite at a time. Din ate right out of Paz's hand, nipping and sucking at Paz's fingers in the process. Paz held the water cup and made sure Din drank slowly. Once Din had had his fill, Paz eased him back onto his stomach before he hoisted Din's hips up so his face was buried in the nest.

“Look at you,” Paz ran his hands over Din's ass and down Din's thighs. Din shivered and Paz kept talking: “So fucking beautiful, Din, so wet and so eager.”

Paz spread Din's legs apart just far enough to reach between them and grab Din's cock, his wrist snug between Din's thighs and coated in slick. Din yelped in surprise but Paz soothed him with soft praise.

“Paz,” Din wined, “Paz, what-”

“Easy sweetheart,” Paz's voice was tight, “How does this feel?”

“Like so much,” Din answered, “So much, Paz, so much-”

“Hmn,” Paz withdrew his hand just enough to coat it in slick before reaching forward again. 

“Holy fuck,” Din gripped the bedding, “Holy fuck.”

“You feel fantastic,” Paz told him as he stroked Din's cock, “You have no idea how fantastic you feel, Din.”

Din closed his eyes and let the sensation of Paz jerking him off with his own slick become the only thing in his universe.

“I'm going to mount you,” Paz said, “and if it becomes too much, I want you to say stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” Din was desperate.

“What do you say if it becomes too much?” Paz was still stroking Din off and asking questions at all felt horribly unfair.

“I say stop,” Din answered, “But not now, don't stop, please Paz, **please!** ”

Paz stopped stroking Din off so that he could guide himself into Din. He went slowly, carefully, until he bottomed out. Din could feel the heft of Paz's bulk resting on his back, a reminder of the size of the man.

Din **loved** how small he felt like this.

Paz's few test thrusts were not slow this time. Once he got a feel for the distance, he set a merciless pace. Din gasped and whined and moaned as Paz slammed into him over and over.

“Fuck, Din,” Paz started **babbling** as he fucked Din, “Look at you, so fucking perfect. So wet and so needy, so perfect. Fuck, Din, I'm the luckiest bastard in the universe like this. Can't believe how perfect you feel on my cock.”

The praise was a heady thing for Din and he **sobbed**.

Paz stopped, pulled out, and laid next to din, half covering him.

“Din, sweetheart, what's wrong?” Paz caught Din's chin with a crooked forefinger, “Sweetheart, Din, I'm here, I'm right here.”

“I'm sorry,” Din was crying, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know-”

It was the hormones, Din's sole helpful part of his brain supplied, the hormones mixed with the praise and how damned **good** everything Paz did to him felt. He must have been saying all this aloud because Paz said: “You deserve good, Din,” he pressed his forehead against Din's, “You deserve so much better than good, you deserve fantastic,” Paz took a deep breath, “You do, Din.”

“You're not mad?” Din asked, his voice unsteady.

“Oh sweetheart,” Paz put a hand on Din's cheek, “I'm not mad, not at all. Oh my sweet Din.”

“I like it when you call me that,” Din told him.

“Sweetheart,” Paz said again, “My sweet, sweet Din.”

“Every word there,” Din gripped Paz's arm, “Oh Paz, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

“Forgiven,” Paz told him, “Absolutely and completely forgiven.”

Din nuzzled into Paz and Paz held Din close while Din cried.

Din had no idea how long Paz held him like that while he cried, but when he was done he was **exhausted.**

“Still with me, sweetheart?” Paz asked.

“Mmhmm,” Din nodded, “I. I think I needed that,” he went quiet for a moment before he whispered, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Paz told him, “Of course.”

Din snuggled against Paz's chest and Paz kissed the top of Din's head.

“Hey Din,” Paz's voice was quiet.

“Yeah?” Din looked up at Paz.

“Can I kiss you?” Paz asked.

“Yes,” Din's entire face lit up.

Paz pulled back just enough to lean down and press his lips to Din's.

Din opened his mouth just a little and Paz slid his tongue into Din's mouth. Din mirrored him and Paz moaned, his hand that had been draped over Din now gripping Din's back, the tips of his fingers pulling at Din's skin and muscles.

When they broke the kiss, Din was panting for air, lungs and nerves burning.

“Holy shit,” Din breathed.

“Din,” it sounded like a prayer, “oh Din, you are so fucking perfect.”

He kissed Din again, a chaste thing this time that shifted into pressing their foreheads together while Paz stroked Din's back. Paz told Din he was perfect over and over again. 

“I still want you to mount me,” Din told him, “I'm just. I don't...I don't know what happened.”

“We've got days, sweetheart,” Paz assured him, “This is about **you.** ”

Din huffed but smiled and nudged Paz on his back so he could drape himself over Paz's front. He nestled his head in Paz's chest while Paz traced mindless patterns on Din's back.

There was a part of Din that knew once his heat was over, there were going to be several long, difficult talks with Paz. Odds were both Peli and Boba would try to make it their problems, too.

But for now, there was this, and Din was glad his heat would tether him to the moment the entire time. All the problems that existed between him and Paz and everything else about both their lives was a problem for future Din.

Right now, Din was **perfect.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, I wrote this whole thing in one document and it wasn't until I broke it down into chapters as I was posting everything I realized I had seven sections instead of six.


End file.
